Echo
by loonacy
Summary: Rosiel finally comes to appreciate his faithful servant, and each realize how truly alike they are.


First attempt at an Angel Sanctuary fanfic. Katan and Rosiel have been growing on me for a long time… So, I figured I'd write a dopey little short story about the two. No further chapters will be added. I do hope you like. All characters belong to Kaori Yuki, who is nothing short of brilliant.

Without further ado, read on.

_Do you not..._

"Can't you hear me..."

_See me?_

"Screaming... Bleeding?"

_This is all just... _

"I can't bear this any longer!"

_Too much..._

"My sister..."

He had a beauty all his own. No one equaled it. No one stood a chance.

His radiance blinded all. He, with such ease, ensnared all he encountered. Upholding a look of purity, with a keen ability to produce the sweetest sounding lies from a sugar coated tongue, there were few that could resist him. Countless fell victim to his games.

However, his greatest victim was his greatest benefit.

"Katan," uttered the voice of silken sin, a long, feminine finger gracefully luring the younger angel over.

Angels are without sin. But in one look, one mere glance... Rosiel could make even the purest of angels fall.

The casual way he walked to his Master concealed any sign of the agonizing hunger that twisted and distorted his senses. Katan had always appeared immensely placid. There was much more to this cherubim than meets the eye. Yet his master never cared to examine what lingered beneath that calm exterior Katan skillfully withheld.

"Yes, Rosiel-sama?" he replied in a voice deep, without the utterance of any detectable emotion. The thunder and rain that met the crashing tides of his emotion was a secret no one would ever know.

Rosiel's finger ceased Katan's collar and yanked him forth.

"Shy are we, Katan? Come closer!" replied Rosiel in a tone so conspicuous, it made Katan feel almost foolish... Despite the fact their noses were nearly touching.

"Erm, pardon me, my Lord, but... How... How is that possible?"

Katan felt himself blushing madly. Rosiel laughed.

"So pure... I wish that I could be so pure, without flaw, _just as you are_," his words were a delectable fault, a temptation. The way his breath brushed his cheek so tenderly made him tremble. Hands carved so perfectly, as if molded from smooth porcelain, cupped his jawline. Katan's eyes were round in shock and fear as Rosiel's lips closed in. He couldn't find the strength to move... To even breathe.

"Rosiel..." Katan whimpered, as if meekly pleading with him to stop. He felt as though he was being suffocated. He was drowning in him. He couldn't breathe. Like so many before. And the irony of all of this was the fact that this was no embrace of love...

Rosiel hindered suddenly at his words. Something had been slipped into Katan's mouth. Something small, something that urged it's way down his throat, but was summoned back with a weak cough into his quivering palm. He didn't even have to examine the tiny object he now clenched tightly in his fist. He knew what this was. He knew what Rosiel's embrace meant.

Was he not all ready the perfect puppet? Did he now have to sell his soul to prove his worth? Katan's face fell. Try as he might, he couldn't keep himself from trembling. Rosiel's hands fell from Katan's flushed face, his arms snaked their way across his own chest. Eyes scanned Katan coldly.

He knew those eyes. He knew that look. Katan had disappointed him.

"I can't..." He choked, "I'm sorry, Lord Rosiel, but I can't... Please...-"

"You _can't_, or you _wont_, Katan? Funny, I've been hearing that often from you," those eyes ablaze with fire.

"Why, Rosiel-sama?" Gasped Katan, finding that he was still at a loss of breath.

"Servants that disobey their Masters are not servants at all, now are they? Or perhaps you're not too keen on the definition, Katan. I'll enlighten you. I am your Master," that whimsical voice now gathered more and more fury with each syllable. "You obey me. You, however, seem to find it much easier to make a mockery of my position. Do you somehow find me incompetent? If so, I suggest you bring that to my attention before meddling in business that is not your own."

"Yes… Master. I… I will keep that in mind in the future."

But there were no words to scathe the utter disapoinment on his face. He had failed him. And it was the worst feeling in the world.

"Good. I have no use for you. Leave my sight."

And at those words, Katan immediately dismissed himself, finding the task to even glance at his Master far too difficult of one.

The days that followed seemed prolonged and nothing short of agonizing. Rosiel had taken away to his study and plastered an invisible 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door. And Katan, who was overcome with countless anxieties, found it best to not indulge in the sight of his Master for a day or two.

When Katan could stand being apart from Rosiel no longer, a tender rap on the door made his presence known.

No response.

And again.

Silence.

He could hear his heart bellow inside of his ears.

Something was deeply wrong. Katan could sense it. It was true, in matters concerning Rosiel, Katan often over-reacted. Rosiel, who was ridiculously blithe, especially now, often laughed at Katan's anguish. It was true that he - for some reason unknown, most would guess his vanity - seemed to enjoy Katan's torment for him. It flattered him. Yet Rosiel was many things, reliable would not be one of them, but he _always _answered Katan's call. In that aspect he had never failed him.

"Rosiel-sama? Please, open the door," his breath became ragged. The knob of crystalline threatened to break beneath his claw-like hold.

"Rosiel..." he drawled meekly, deepened voice of monotone cultivation cracked.

Within an instant, he defied the unwavering hinges. And he found his anxieties to be true.

The small, frail form of his Master lay curled on his side near the darkest corner of the room, back facing the pallid angel in the doorway. He seemed to shudder, as though touched by a bitter frost, yet would not make a hint of movement otherwise. He had never before seemed to small.

Katan crept softly to him, gingerly resting a quivering hand on Rosiel's shoulder. Hair spun from strands of pale silver now concealed the beautiful angel's face from view. He tenderly brushed the strands away from that face that defined beauty itself, and even now he was rendered breathless at the sight of it.

Rosiel's eyes were closed, cheeks painted rosy were stained with cold tears. His lips, paler than the violent red hue they most usually consumed, weakly formed her name. He was calling for her, even now. Katan could feel his heart breaking.

When Katan lifted his cold brittle form into warm, safe arms, eyes grew wide at the sight that lay before him. Deep crimson liquid stained the floor of cherry oak. Even the sheer ivory curtains that glided in from the gentle breeze of the open window was soiled with drops of scarlet. Rosiel's arm that lay limply on the floor beside them looked as if it had been bathed in blood.

"Oh, Rosiel..." Katan murmured in tone hinting both distress and revulsion at the sight of his bare limb. With a knife, Rosiel had carved the name Alexiel in jagged letters up his arm. The symbols of red had been etched dangerously deep, as to never disappear.

Like those scars, his pain would never cease.

With a swift movement, Katan swept his dazed Master into his arms and stood. Rosiel's body was limply cradled, his only means of movement was the weak rising and falling of his chest each time a breath was taken in and released. Katan held the angel with the boyish, lanky body with ease.

He had before seemed so invincible. Everything that came from Rosiel's mouth was truth... Every movement he made, every action, Katan was beckoned to follow. He would never be as radiant... He would never be much of anything compared to Rosiel. He was forever in his shadow.

But to have that title, to dwell in Rosiel's shadow... This was more than enough for him. Just to look at that face. It was to stand at the top of the highest mountain and gaze at the mass below fountained in sheer white snow blended with the pale sky above... To see this sight for the very first time... This is what it meant to look upon the face of Rosiel. A sight with the most inconceivable beauty.

The curtain-concealed bed with silken sheets beckoned for him, and Katan tenderly laid his feeble figure down. He began to cleanse the wound, dyeing the terrycloth cerise. As he gazed down at his battle scars left behind, letting the airiest of fingertips glide across them, tears destroyed the masked facade he'd always worn. He let them fall freely now, knowing that his master wouldn't see. He would be mortified.

As night drifted into dawn, Katan finally stood to leave Rosiel's side. Yet a hand closed in around his wrist, urging him back.

"Katan... Don't leave me, not now," came a voice so desperate, uncoated... Real.

"Yes, Rosiel-sama. If I'm needed, I'll stay."

So in silence they stayed, words seemed to lack meaning and definition at that point. The only thing they needed was each other's company, with or without words.

Rosiel seemed to fall in and out of consciousness throughout the day, and each dream was clearly written across his face. There was never a moment that he didn't see her. She was always there. Constantly.

"Alexiel… My sister…" he would murmur on occasion. And Katan would turn his head and bite his lip.

The final attempt at a restful sleep left him nearly panting, each breath exhaled was lingered with a weak cry of _that name_.

It seemed as if Katan was unnoticed then, as Rosiel nearly jumped when his hand came forth and embraced his shaking shoulder. Then he viciously pulled away, forcefully shoving Katan.

"Leave, Katan. Leave! Now!" he let out a shrill cry, his face twisted in agony. Yet he remained beautiful.

"Lord Rosiel, please… Let me stay here," Rosiel had no apparent objections then, despite the angry shuddering of his shoulders. "Give me your pain, Rosiel-sama… I want to take it away from you. Wrap me inside of it. Let me steal it."

There was no response. The manner of his facial expression told all. _If he could give away all of his pain to Katan, he would. In a heartbeat._ "I don't need your worthless offers, Katan. I don't need your consolations, I don't need _you_. I need her!"

His heart fell to the ground and broke into countless pieces. He said nothing at first, but then argued with a weak, "You _do _need me."

Rosiel's expression, like ice melting in fire's eye, turned cruel and caddy. "Oh, do I, now? There was a time when you were nearly beneficial, this is true. I couldn't have broken out of the cold, desolate seal crafted for me by my own sister without you…" His words were smooth as silk, and Katan was tempted to wrap himself up in them, indulge in the pleasure of being in Rosiel's favor.

"Rosiel… So many love you… So many, including myself. No one wants to see you hurt."

"I will be hurt if I don't pursue my sister. Don't you understand, Katan? Or do you acquire the attributes of both a nuisance and an idiot? Well, whatever, I'm no longer certain, nor do I care. But you are no longer required. I cannot rely on somebody that takes it upon himself to do what he wishes, with lack of regard for what his Master orders of him."

Katan now wished to cave inside himself, to evaporate into the brisk September air.

That face sculpted to perfection itself now crumbled, muscles writhing like snakes beneath the ivory silk as for a moment all emotions were laid out before Katan's own eyes to witness. "Do you have any idea..." he began, a voice once smooth and cavillous suddenly revealing the true emotion beneath, "What I feel, Katan? To be constantly denied by the one you admire and treasure above all else... To be constantly ridiculed, taunted, slaughtered by the very sight of them, strung back and played with like a wind-up toy? Do you?..."

Katan did not answer, as the response would be painfully blunt, and there was no need. And a wave of silence cascaded over them both. Because at that moment, Rosiel realized. And it was read clearly in his eyes.

There was nothing then. Nothing to be heard but the evening breeze that drifted through the balcony of the city loft, the distant traffic below, and the bellowing sound of Rosiel's cold words resounding in his head.

When nothing more was spoken, Rosiel emerged from sheets untidy and warm from uneasy sleep, draping his slender body in the robe Katan had laid across the foot of the four poster.

But Katan wouldn't let him leave. Not this way. Not with those being his final words. In an act of pure desperation, Katan slipped his arms around the smaller angel's waist, their hips clashing at the embrace.

"Katan…" He murmured dangerously. Yet his tone seemed to slowly drain superiority. Katan could feel his weight against him, as though freely needing him. He needed this embrace, even if words were jagged and harsh as ice. They needed one another. An unspoken truth amongst them both.

"It's the only way I can get you to see me…" gentle breath could be felt brushing against softened strands, hair his fingers itched to touch. Rosiel seemed to tense in Katan's unwavering hold, those words seemingly had an effect.

"I can't see anything anymore," he whispered and turned, and they stood torso to torso. Both bodies began to quiver against the other's flesh. The wall between them, the pretty masks they wore in the ongoing masquerade melting from fire's touch. The touch of heated passion that warmed them from blood to bone.

_I can hold you, if you'd let me. Capture you the way you've captured me. Let me sink into you, delve into your sin, and you can watch as I fall victim so willingly._

And garments met the ground, limbs met limbs and twisted and writhed the sheets beneath. There were no words to be formed in the momentary solace.

So very momentary… A blink of an eye in eternity.

And nothing could have been so beautiful.


End file.
